The night had fallen, casting long shadows across the school grounds. Our protagonist, still tied and shivering, remained the unwilling pillow of the black-eyed girl. His eyes, filled with silent pleas for freedom, suddenly caught sight of three approaching figures—Horikita, Ayanokōji, and a bespectacled man whose posture radiated an air of disciplined combat.
The bespectacled man attacked first, his movements precise and calculated. Each punch carried a weight of experience, his body pivoting with mechanical efficiency, striking with a mix of speed and force. Yet, Ayanokōji moved like flowing water, dodging with an almost lazy grace, his body shifting effortlessly, each motion minimal but effective. The strikes barely grazed him, as if he had anticipated them long before they were thrown. His calm expression remained unchanged, like a still pond untouched by even the strongest winds.
The black-eyed girl, momentarily distracted from her studies, observed the spectacle with keen interest.
"His movements... they match yours," she remarked without looking at her so-called pillow.
Still wriggling in a desperate attempt to escape her grasp, the protagonist shot back, "He's a copycat! Always stealing my stuff. Back in kindergarten, I created a masterpiece—a revolutionary portrayal of my principal in abstract art. And what did he do? Copied me!"
A flicker of memory crossed his mind, of being punished with a wooden stick for daring to recreate a 'rotten potato' version of the principal, an act that had apparently been deemed disrespectful to the noble institution of education. The pain was still fresh, his body involuntarily shuddering at the trauma.
The black-eyed girl smirked. "You think I'm a fool? Look at him. You and he are worlds apart. He's holding back, revealing only fragments of his true capabilities. That's a trait of someone who has acquired intelligence, not someone who brags about abstract art."
The protagonist seethed, his already battered pride taking another hit. "You're just as biased as Horikita! But Ayanokōji is mine. He's my human shield, my protective wall against the dangers of this world. And now, look at him! Playing hero, saving the damsel in distress when I should be the one getting his attention!"
Their eyes returned to the fight, but the bespectacled man was now retreating into the shadows, disappearing without a word. Meanwhile, Horikita and Ayanokōji stood facing each other, their expressions serious, engaged in what seemed to be a discussion of utmost importance.
The protagonist huffed. "Typical dumbshell-in-distress behavior. Enjoying the company of the hero while dramatically revealing her tragic family backstory. Classic."
The black-eyed girl stifled a chuckle before resting her head more comfortably against him. "Shut up and let me study."
As the night deepened, the air grew colder, and our protagonist continued his valiant yet futile struggle against the rope that bound him. His shivering intensified, not just from the cold, but from the sheer injustice of his situation. Meanwhile, the black-eyed girl showed no signs of releasing him, her head comfortably using him as a pillow while she remained engrossed in her study material.
With exaggerated sighs and murmurs of protest, the protagonist muttered, "What is the point of studying? It's just a waste of our youth. We should be outside, embracing nature, playing, enjoying life instead of—" His voice trailed off as his fingers worked meticulously at the knots. His hands, trained in countless escapes from similarly sticky situations, moved with precision. The rough texture of the rope scraped against his skin, but his determination remained unwavering. Slowly, he twisted his wrist, slipping a finger into the first loop—step one in his grand escape.
The black-eyed girl, still engrossed in her studies, suddenly spoke. "You sure talk a lot for someone tied up. And deceiving too. Do you think I don't notice?"
His fingers froze for a fraction of a second before he resumed his escape attempt, playing dumb. "Notice what? My unmatched wisdom? My natural charisma?"
She sighed, clearly unimpressed. "My class leader gave me an ultimatum—pass the upcoming test or suffer dire consequences. And trust me, the way he glared at me..." The black-eyed girl shuddered dramatically, her expression momentarily serious before she continued. "It was like staring into the eyes of death itself. I swear, he might actually eat me if I fail."
The protagonist snorted. "Pfft. leader giving death glares? That's nothing. I get them all the time. Builds character. You just need to glare back. Assert dominance."
The black-eyed girl raised an eyebrow. "And how has that worked out for you?"
"...Well, I'm currently tied to a tree, so let's just say it's a work in progress."
She chuckled, amused by his plight, before returning to her textbook. Meanwhile, the protagonist redoubled his efforts. His fingers moved with renewed urgency, slipping one knot free. Almost there. Almost—
"If you untie yourself, I'll tie you again—tighter this time."
He froze mid-motion, his expression a perfect blend of horror and frustration. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, only to find her still reading, not even sparing him a glance.
"How did you—?"
"I can feel you struggling, idiot. You move too much."
He slumped in defeat. The universe truly had it out for him tonight.
Meanwhile, in the distance, Ayanokōji and Horikita continued their serious discussion. From his position, the protagonist observed them keenly, his annoyance flaring again.
"See? There she goes, monologuing about her tragic past while he listens, all mysterious and broody. Typical. I bet right now she's saying something like, 'My brother never hugged me. I must prove myself. I am so strong yet so fragile.'" He mimicked a dramatic voice before sighing. "What a waste of perfectly good time."
The black-eyed girl ignored him, but the corner of her lips twitched.
Feeling betrayed by the universe and the rope that still held him captive, the protagonist sighed deeply and gazed up at the night sky. "This world is unfair. But one day, I shall break free. One day, I shall rise."
The black-eyed girl hummed in acknowledgment before shifting slightly, making herself more comfortable against him. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't move too much. You're a decent pillow."
And thus, with his fate sealed, the protagonist accepted his temporary role as an unwilling, shivering cushion under the night sky.
The male protagonist, still tied up, had reached the peak of his frustration. With every passing moment, his anger boiled, and finally, he couldn't hold it in anymore. "You black-eyed devil! Your whole family must be filled with cruel—"
CRACK!
Before he could finish his grand insult, the branch he was tied to finally gave up on life and snapped, sending him plummeting to the ground. He flailed like a fish thrown onto land, gasping for air, wriggling desperately to escape.
"T-This is my chance! My human shield!" he wheezed before scrambling—no, flopping—towards Ayanokōji, dragging himself across the grass like a dying warrior.
Meanwhile, Ayanokōji and Horikita were deeply engaged in an intense discussion about the fate of low-performing students.
"I can't tutor them. If they fail, let them fail. Only the best should remain; otherwise, our class will never reach Class A," Horikita stated firmly.
Ayanokōji, ever the enigma, countered, "We should work together for this midterm exam. Everyone has their uses—"
His sentence was cut off by the sudden, unexpected arrival of the male protagonist, who practically slammed into his legs, hugging him for dear life. Ayanokōji sighed. Life was truly unpredictable. Just a moment ago, he had felt gazes from that tree, and now the very source of those gazes was clutching him like a lifeline.
Horikita, still emotionally recovering from their conversation, felt her irritation spike. She had almost regained her composure, but this buffoon had shattered her peace. She shot him a look that practically screamed, Why must you exist?!
Our protagonist, ignoring her silent fury, swiftly pushed Ayanokōji forward and hid behind him. Then, upon seeing the black-eyed girl descend from the tree with an eerie calmness, he trembled violently and screamed, "This girl is INHUMAN! She molested me! Quick, sue her!"
He dramatically presented his bruises as evidence, expecting immediate support. However, Ayanokōji merely stared at him, his usual blank expression unchanged, his eyes quietly saying, Do you really expect me to believe that?
Before the protagonist could add more dramatic flair, the black-eyed girl stepped forward and declared, "Give me my human pillow back. It is a human's birthright to have a pillow while studying."
Ayanokōji and Horikita both twitched at the sheer absurdity of her statement. As if dealing with one lunatic wasn't enough, now there were two.
"Who… are you?" Horikita finally asked, rubbing her temples.
The black-eyed girl, her eyes still glued to the male protagonist, answered, "Hanagi. Class C. Now, return my human pillow immediately. My leader is coming soon."
At that exact moment, from the shadows, Kakeru Ryūen—the red-haired menace with the physique of a seasoned street fighter—strode into view. Hanagi instantly stiffened, her previous confidence evaporating like morning mist.
"Why aren't you studying?" Ryūen asked, his gaze sweeping over Ayanokōji, Horikita, and our dear, terrified protagonist.
Hanagi, not missing a beat, pointed straight at the male protagonist. "I was retrieving my human pillow. He is very soft."
Ryūen gave her an unimpressed look before sighing. "Enough of this nonsense. Go back. And you—" he turned to the male protagonist with a smirk. "Stay away. I promise, something miserable will happen to you if you don't."
As Hanagi was dragged away, she looked longingly at her soft human pillow, a single tear slipping down her cheek. The protagonist, watching this bizarre display, muttered under his breath, "She's an even bigger fool than me. This is a disgrace! A direct challenge to my superiority as the King of Fools! Today's generation has no respect for their elders."
While everyone was still recovering from the sheer nonsense they had just witnessed, the protagonist decided to test fate once again—by shoving Ayanokōji straight into Horikita.
A perfect cinematic moment unfolded. Ayanokōji stumbled, and Horikita, in a rare moment of clumsiness, caught him in her arms. Time slowed. Their eyes met. A classic romance scene was born.
The protagonist, witnessing this abomination of masculinity, screamed internally and bolted, muttering, "Ayanokōji is not manly enough. I refuse to be associated with this!"
And thus, another "peaceful" day at school came to an end.
Protagonist: Author, from what angle was this peaceful?!
Author: [mutes protagonist].